Borrowed Reveries
by Sadazen
Summary: [You're always welcome here! You can borrow my dreams anytime you want.] A little conversation between everyone's favorite telepath and the little girl that is Aya-chan. While she sleeps, of course. Perhaps a little WAFFy. Perhaps not. ;)


**A/N: **Here we have Schu. And Aya (the real one). Not Schu x Aya. I'd be flayed. More speculation on my favorite topic of dreams; got the idea while I was asleep and wrote it when I couldn't sleep. Oh well. Enjoy.

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**Borrowed Reveries**

Her dreams are disjointed, but not unpleasantly. She finds she is rather thrilled by the sensation of being whirled from one scenario to the next, one moment a young girl on the edge of womanhood, the next a child lost in fantasies of fair afternoons and the caress of summer rain. Strains of music drift to her ears, enticing her to sing along, though the whirlwind in which she finds herself tears the half-remembered words away. Faces, both the familiar and not, pass before her eyes.

Then, before she fully realizes what is happening, she is seven years old again. The scene before her is a recognizable one, a well-trodden mountain path leading through a stretch of woods to a plateau open to the sky. Something tells her that she's been here before; she remembers, vaguely, the murmur of the wind through the trees, and the lighthearted call of her brother from further up the slope.

"_Race you to the top!"_

She hasn't seen her brother in a long time. She misses him.

He isn't at the end of the path, however. Someone else is, a man tall and lithe, whose long hair seems to flame when the sun hits it just right, causing him to stand out in this picture of serenity. She wonders, _Who is he? Why is he here?_

He turns to her then, as if catching her thoughts, and smiles, a thin-lipped smile that is neither genuine nor sincere. Were she awake and in the possession of the sometime-vice known as Reason, she would know she has cause to fear this man. As it is, nothing can hurt her in this little paradise of her own making. Not if she does not wish it.

_Or so she thinks._ Picking up on that thought as well, he sets it aside and decides that there is no harm in letting the girl believe as she does.

"Hello." His voice is quicksilver and iron, with an allure that belies strength. A shiver runs through her. He laughs. "You have nothing to fear from me, little one. This is your dream, after all."

"Hello, onii-san…" she replies. "Are you part of my dream?"

"Part of your dream? No, I'm just visiting."

"You can do that?"

"I can. But if you'd rather I leave, I can do that as well."

"No, stay," she announces after a few moments' pause, like a princess in her realm. Wariness can always be saved for later. "Maybe you can help me find my brother. He was supposed to meet me here."

"He can't make it tonight."

She inclines her head in childish curiosity at this. "You know my brother, onii-san?"

"…You could say that."

"Why can't he come?"

"He has work to do; it keeps him up quite late. He and Mother Night are very good friends now, you might say."

"He's gone and grown up on me, hasn't he?" The thought saddens her, and she shuffles across the space between them to tug at the end of his black coat. "I miss him. Can you tell him to come see me soon?"

"I'll try." A long, fine-fingered hand reaches down to ruffle her hair. "I can't make any promises, mein liebchen, but I'll try."

His response seems to suffice; she beams up at him with the emotional capriciousness of the very young. "Thank you!"

"You're quite welcome."

"I'm Aya, by the way," she says, remembering her manners. "What's your name?"

"It doesn't matter. You can call me Schu, if you like."

"Schu-niisan!" She tests the word for a moment, tasting its sound and its foreignness before letting a giggle escape her lips. "That's a funny name."

"Is it?" _Funny, eh?_ He has been called many things in his life, but never funny. The feeling it brings about is unfamiliar and not entirely objectionable. Then again, he has always embraced change, as he himself is never quite the same for very long.

"Yep!" She's tugging on his coat again. "Ne."

"Hmm?"

"Why do you visit people's dreams? I mean, it's not that I don't want you here," she states. Her innocence makes her bold. "But don't you ever, you know, have dreams of your own?"

"Sadly, no. Not anymore."

"Why?"

He shrugs. "I hear the thoughts of others all the time; it's how I was made. These thoughts mix themselves in with mine, so I have a hard time making dreams of my own. I'm never really sure which are mine and which aren't."

"How sad."

"It's not as bad as it sounds. I thank you very much for caring, though."

"Well… if it helps any," she replies brightly, "you're always welcome here! You can borrow my dreams anytime you want."

"That's very sweet."

"I mean it. You're nice, and I like you."

"I like you too," he says, and maybe even means it. Anything can happen in dreams.

His expression suddenly darkens; his eyes slip out of focus to gaze at something very far away.

"What's wrong?"

He smiles. This time she can swear that she sees real mirth there. "Nothing. It's just that I'll have to be going soon. It's morning where I am, and there's work to be done."

"Work again?"

"Yes, liebchen. Work. I'm sorry."

"Fine... But come back soon!"

"I will."

"Don't forget to bring my brother next time!" She hugs him around the waist, briefly and tightly, before stepping away to wave farewell. "Take care!"

"You too."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

In what is known as the waking world, the shrilling of an alarm clock pierces the morning stillness. It brings him abruptly out of his borrowed reverie. He shakes his head.

"She'll hold me to my word, no doubt, if I visit again."

He remembers the little girl's laugh like the tinkling of bells, the pressure of her arms about his waist, and briefly wonders if this is what the Weiss leader must feel like.

Elsewhere in the apartment, he can hear Crawford calling his name. Cross as usual. The corner of his mouth turns up in a half-smirk. _That's if I visit again…_

"Hold your horses, Brad. I'm coming."

"Don't call me Brad!"

And it's this again.

**Fin**

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**A/N: **I thrive on late nights, it seems. (yawn) :p R&R, if you please. Thanks!

Just had to tie up a few loose ends... And for the helluvit, WK ain't mine. Whee!


End file.
